The Ring
by Snow Tigra
Summary: Ky and Fredrick were perfect together, before Fredrick died.  Now Ky finds himself falling for Sol, who is completely different from Fredrick.  But sometimes they seem just so alike, almost as if they're the same person.  Alternate Universe.  Yaoi.
1. Prologue

Title: The Ring  
Author: Snow Tigra  
Pairings: Fredrick x Ky, Sol x Ky  
Warnings: AU. Yaoi. Supernatural.  
Summary: Ky Kiske is the rich son of a top businessman, his father loving cars more than anything else. Sol Badguy is the young man Ky's father hires to build and restore classic cars for him, treating him much like the son he could never convince Ky to be. Obviously the two would hate each other, but Sol seems bent on becoming the best of gentlemen to win Ky's heart. It's just not as easy as it seems. 

Prologue

"Happy Anniversary," he whispered, as he picked up the picture and held it quietly in his hands.

Ky remembered the moment perfectly. He remembered the ring being set in front of him, silver and beautiful in its simplicity. He remembered feeling the heat rise to his cheeks and the restaurant around him quiet as he seemed to not be able to hear them anymore. He remembered the man sitting across from him, smiling patiently and waiting for a response. He remembered the crisp and tailored suit, the perfectly cut and groomed brunette hair and the lovely green eyes. He remembered the way Fredrick ate with the smallest, dainty bites and always dabbed his lips with the napkin, keeping himself impeccably clean and well kept, no matter what the situation.

He remembered the long lean fingers holding the ring, setting it down, then pulling back. He remembered his own hand, small by comparison, reaching forward and picking up the ring to look at it as he struggled to breathe or answer.

It was an anniversary gift, that was sure enough. But aside from that, it was also the doorway to something more. It was an offer to be together, to live together and to take Ky out of the large house of his father, bring him to a place a little smaller, but full of much more caring and love then he was used to. It was a promise.

Ky remembered looking up at the slightly older man and returning the smile. He remembered sliding the ring on his finger, delighted to find that it fit perfectly. He remembered standing from his seat, rounding the table, and leaning forward to kiss those beautiful and perfectly sweet lips. He remembered accepting, in spite of the small age difference between them and his own age being quite young. He remembered at the time he'd only been nineteen. He remembered that Fredrick had been twenty-five.

He remembered being so happy for the six months after that. His normally boring life had taken on a light and a sweetness that he could only have dreamed. They planned for everything. Between Ky's classes, they chose a house and set up preparations to purchase it, pending over the next few months. Ky remembered the house was smaller, but more perfect then where he lived that time. He remembered he'd fallen in love with it, and the idea of being alone living with Fredrick.

Ky perfectly remembered the morning he'd woken up, a month away from moving. He remembered the police car outside the front door and the hushed words being whispered to the main servant in the house. He remembered his cousin's phone call with a striking clarity, the words sharp and piercing as they revealed the reality before him. He remembered seeing the car, the pictures of the car and the bent over light post, broken glass scattered about, making it all look so surreal as the sun set in the background. The scene photos released by the police were almost artistic in their gruesomeness. Ky remembered he'd spent the rest of that night in the bathroom, throwing up and crying until he'd passed out.

Ky remembered the small wrapped package they'd given him. He remembered being told it was sitting on the passenger side of the car, in blue wrapping with a white bow. He remembered opening it and dying inside as he saw the two house keys tied together with a white ribbon. He remembered sinking to the floor, dropping the box and watching the keys hit the polished hardwood.

He remembered feeling himself die.

Ky set the photo beside his bed, tilting it so he could see Fredrick's perfect smile. Clasping the keys which now hung around his neck, Ky cried softly into his pillow until his mind was too tired to think. Then he passed out, sleeping as much as he could, before another depressing day woke him up and left him alone.


	2. Chapter 1

Title: The Ring  
Author: Snow Tigra  
Pairings: Fredrick x Ky, Sol x Ky  
Warnings: AU. Yaoi. Supernatural.  
Summary: Ky Kiske is the rich son of a top businessman, his father loving cars more than anything else. Sol Badguy is the young man Ky's father hires to build and restore classic cars for him, treating him much like the son he could never convince Ky to be. Obviously the two would hate each other, but Sol seems bent on becoming the best of gentlemen to win Ky's heart. It's just not as easy as it seems. 

Chapter 1

Ky woke up that morning to the sound of the vacuum cleaner on the carpet downstairs. He didn't open his eyes for a long moment, just snuggling in the thick comforter as he listened to the rhythmic sound going back and forth, picking up nothing from the carpet since it was vacuumed nearly every day by the maids his father kept in his employ. Stretching out his arms, he listened for the faint sounds of someone moving pots and pans in the kitchen, preparing breakfast, and he heard the fax machine in his father's office go off as it received another long document with numbers and figures Ky had no interest in.

Enjoying the sounds and the familiarity of it all, Ky rolled over and opened his eyes as he looked outside. His second floor bedroom provided a lovely view of the sprawling back yard, which was at least two acres of perfectly cut grass and trimmed trees, with two apple blossoms in the back before a white metal fence and thin forest separated them from the city. He'd spent the last nineteen years of his life looking out over this view and he loved it every morning.

There was a knock on the door and Ky closed his eyes, sinking back under the covers. He didn't want to wake up yet and had no reason too. There weren't classes to deal with at the moment, and he had the luxury of enough money from his father to not need a summer job. So why couldn't they let him sleep in peace?

"Ky? Wake up." His father's footsteps sounded on the floor, for he always wore his shoes in the house and Ky had long since memorized the sound of them clicking on the hardwood floor. He listened to his father step toward the bed and then there was the sound of something metal being set on the bedside table. Ky sighed to himself and lifted the cover, glancing over to see what he'd set down.

Sitting on the rich dark wooden table was a pair of car keys, shining in the sunlight so that they almost looked to be made of silver. Under the comforter Ky's hand went to the keys handing around his neck and he slipped them under his t-shirt as he sat up and touched his father's keys.

"Happy birthday, son."

Ky clasped the new keys and resisted the strong urge to frown. Oh yes, of course, it was his birthday wasn't it? Today he was twenty one years old, and today was the exact day that they'd planned to move into their new house. Ky didn't look up at his father, and instead just stared at the keys in his hand. These weren't house keys, that much was obvious. They were too large, too long and too thick for that. Instead these were another set of keys┘ a set that, as far as Ky was concerned, was the most heartless gift he could receive. Especially on a day like this.

Car keys.

"You got me a car." Ky's voice sounded dead even to him. He didn't even look up at his father's face, not willing to see the vacant look he knew was there now. He even blocked out the sound of his father's voice, which was now caught up in describing the wonderful piece of machinery which sat out on the front lawn. Ky slid out of bed, stepping past his father, and walked to the closet to pull on clothes, ignoring the loving rant about gears and mileage and classical restoration.

"You got me a car," Ky muttered to himself. He hated cars. He'd hated them since he'd seen the accident scene photos and the front of Fredrick's car looking melted and twisted around the light post he'd hit. The worst gift his father could get him was a car, and his father should have known that!

Ky sighed softly as he heard his father's voice trail off. Pulling the shirt over his head he relented and banished away his sickened thoughts. Then he turned to face his father and put on the best faked smile. It wasn't really his father's fault, after all. "Thanks." He watched the man's face long enough to see the proud smile, then headed down stairs to see the horrible piece of metal he had been saddled to.

Down the stairs, through the long halls, Ky wound his way around in the longest way possible to avoid seeing it. As he walked through the house he remembered the small house him and Fredrick had planned on purchasing and living together in. He also remembered when he'd sat in his father's office with the door locked and blocked by the large office chair. He'd sat there for hours, it seemed, reading each piece of the lease agreement before shredding it and watching the small pieces of paper spread across the floor in front of him. His father had taken care of the rest, which he was thankful for. Now all he had were the keys around his neck, the keys left from the front door.

No matter how hard Ky tried, he still reached the front door too soon. Taking a slow breath, he opened the double doors and stepped outside.

Sitting in front of him, on the white gravel driveway, was the dreaded vehicle. A deep blue, matching Ky's eyes, the car had obviously come from his father's collection. Two sweeping silver lines curved down the sides to meet the bumper, adding a taste of style to the deep blue. The top was a convertible fold back piece, in white fabric, standing out in stark contrast to the shining car. Ky rounded the front and recognized the company logo from the manufacturer, but honestly couldn't remember which company it was. With a trembling hand he used the keys he'd been given to open the door and slowly sat inside.

He couldn't really remember the last time he'd been inside a car. He was sure he'd ridden in them after the accident, but he couldn't remember any in great detail. There was probably a police car in their somewhere, maybe the car he'd rode in to the hospital ... it was all a great blur in his mind. But now sitting in this new car, his new car, he felt small and cold. The glass windshield seemed to lock him in more securely then bars and Ky felt his breath quicken while the world around him seemed to shrink.

He felt sick.

How dare his father even consider this!

Ky kicked open the door, ignoring the groan of the metal as he pushed himself out of the car and back into the fresh air. He turned and kicked the door shut, and then angrily threw the keys at the fresh paint job. He watched in slow motion as the metal nicked the side, leaving a small hint of white under the paint. Ky stepped back more and stumbled onto the grass, laying there and looking up at the sky.

He hated his gift. He hated his birthday. He hated his father.

Ever since Ky could remember, his father had loved cars. Once upon a time that man had the hobby of restoring them. He'd buy old cars that were falling apart and slowly pay and fix them up until they gleamed and shone like new and purred like well fed kittens. Ky could remember being shown the pieces and sitting on the skateboard looking piece that slide under the car to repair various curving pipes and wires. Ky's father had tried for several years to get Ky as excited about the machines and their inner workings. Ky had never once been interested in that, not even as he grew older and gained the ability to drive them. His father just never seemed to understand that to Ky they were simply a way to get around, and he honestly didn't care if he was driving a big car, a small car, an expensive car or a cheap car.

Somewhere along the line, during his life, Ky's mother had left the two of them alone and his father had buried himself in his work. Cars and motors were forgotten as he locked himself in the small home office, carrying on phone conversations long into the night and receiving faxes early in the morning. Soon they were richer and soon Ky found other people working in the garage on the cars his father loved so much. It turned out his father didn't have time for the hobby anymore, so he hired young men who loved cars just as much as him, to be both his personal restorer and surrogate son.

Ky found himself mostly forgotten in favor of the boys his father hired and watched work on the cars with almost an obsessive attention to detail.

Ky rolled over in the grass and looked back up at the car.

"At least you're still trying..." he said softly, then sat up and retrieved the keys, looking at them quietly. He couldn't fault his father for still trying to get through to him. After everything that had happened with Fredrick, Ky hadn't really done much but cry in his room and occasionally eat. This car was his father trying, once again, to get close to him. Could he really be mad?

Yes, Ky decided, yes he could.

Grabbing the keys tightly he sat back inside the car and slammed it shut. Then he plugged in the key and hit the gas. Hearing the motor hum at the speed, Ky sped out of the driveway and down the road. He ignored his anger and hatred for the whole of his situation and his life. Instead he took it out on the car, pushing the gas down and just going faster and faster.

Curving roads and trees flew past on either side, with relatively few cars following or passing him. It was a week day, people were at work and couldn't be bothered with the young man recklessly driving his car at nearly twice the speed limit.

The decision was quick and Ky really didn't even consider it. He just felt the hatred and sorrow knotting together in his chest and making it hard for him to swallow and breathe. He clutched the wheel tight enough to make his hands hurt, his foot cramping from how much he was pushing down on the gas pedal.

The guard rail came up mercifully fast, followed by a jolt and a line of concrete. Ky felt a flare of red hot pain as there was a rush of air and a large white bubble grew in front of him. His head slammed back into the seat, then sideways into the window, his vision fading out to black as he heard the car come to a stop, accompanied by the sound of cracking concrete and twisting metal.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

The pain was sharp, throbbing through his head with painful jolts of lightning, splashing white behind his eyelids. Ky groaned at the buzzing and whining sound in his ears and lifted his arm to swat the bug it must be coming from. When his arm hit coarse fabric, dust flew around him, causing his throat to close up and spasm. Ky's other hand felt around the thick metal on his left side until he found something that vaguely felt like a door handle. Giving it a jerk that hurt his fingers and wrist, he heard the door crack open with a whine of metal, before he tumbled out of the car.

The whining wasn't a bug after all, but rather a police car that had stopped on the road above, complete with the flashing red and blue lights that momentarily blinded Ky. He coughed until his throat was dry and the dust was gone, then wiped what was left from his face. His neck hurt badly, along with the cut he discovered burning his forehead from dust mixed with blood and a small piece of glass. Ky flopped down on the grass, lying down as he looked over at the twisted metal that was now made of what looked like melted blue paint and glass shattered with the airbag deflated in the front seat.

And he'd gotten out with just a cut on his forehead and a sore neck? So why the hell hadn't Fredrick survived his crash? Karma and fate sucked.

Footsteps came up beside him, with dark polished black boots and the clicks of a utility belt crammed with various tools. "Are you all right, kid?" The police man's voice was scolding and he wasn't reaching for his walkie, obviously thinking Ky was drunk for driving through a concrete divider at the edge of a bridge an d ending up in the mucky grass between the drainage pond and the exit lane. Ky didn't move, still caught up in his moment of rebellion and shoving the car mentally back against his father for being so insensitive. Part of him was still wondering how he'd lived and if he'd actually intended to kill himself.

"Yeah, fine, just taking my birthday gift out for a spin."

"Can you stand?"

"Probably." Ky didn't move though and instead just kept staring at the car in front of him.

A moment passed between the two in silence before Ky sighed and let go of the rebellious streak. Closing his eyes he forced himself to slowly sit up, then to his feet, holding the back of his neck for support. He could tell it was going to hurt for the next week at least. He supposed he deserved that though, for being so stupid. If he'd really wanted to kill himself he should have driven off the bridge in the middle and crashed to the road below, but in reality - he realized - he'd just wanted to destroy the car. In that he'd succeeded, so he could live with a little neck pain and the scar that would soon be on his forehead.

"The cut looks pretty minor, you're not bleeding anymore. You probably don't need an ambulance. Would you mind coming up with me to take a breathalyzer test." It wasn't a question in the least bit, and Ky didn't treat it as such. He dutifully followed the cop up to his car, somehow managing to walk well enough in spite of the pounding in his head. Breathing into the machine and walking the straight line by the car was significant enough to convince the cop he wasn't intoxicated, and the flash of his ID showing his first and last name made the cop even more cooperative and willing to forget the incident.

In the end Ky found himself riding in the back of the cop car for a ride home, leaving the twisted wreck of his car behind on the road.

Ky hoped he'd never see it again.

Ky slammed the bedroom door hard, making his own head ring harder. Through the wood he could still hear his fathers' voice, eagerly interrogating the cop about the condition of the wrecked car. He'd only glanced at Ky when he'd come in, then immediately started asking about the precious gift he'd given him. Ky felt sick and almost needed to throw up from the complete lack of caring his father had shown for his own son!

He didn't even bother to take off his shoes and leave them at the door, but instead kicked them off and didn't even pay attention to where they landed in his room. Dusty clothes dropped to the floor and Ky walked naked into the bathroom that connected his and the unused guest bedroom to take a look at himself and assess the damage.

A cut crossed the right side of his forehead, probably from the rearview mirror or something like that, and it had dyed the blond bangs in that area a faded red. He could see the small piece of glass and easily brushed it away with his fingers, causing the blood to start a little again. He grabbed a towel from the rack and proceeded to clean off the blood from his forehead, leaving only the small red outline of a jagged cut that probably wouldn't even leave a scar.

The rest of his body wasn't much of a case. His neck still hurt, but his headache was fading now and the remaining dust from the airbag was easily washed off in the deep bath tub while soaking in the scalding hot water. Ky made sure the door was locked securely, before submerging himself up to his neck in the hot water, his skin turning slightly red from the heat. The tingling against his skin was relaxing and he closed his eyes, letting the shock and pain of the accident just fade away as he tuned out the voices from the floor below.

Mentally he walked through the house he and Fredrick had chosen to live in. He entered the front door and stepped into the kitchen, to find it decorated in white and light blue, looking horribly domesticated yet comfortable enough. Everything matched, making it look like some pristine summer cottage that people rented out for the weekend rather than living in, right down to the little flowers in the window by the sink and the kitchen rag hanging next to the stove. The living room continued off the kitchen, sporting large and plush chairs and a couch with a television hanging over the fireplace, flanked by decorative candle holders on either side. Then there was the bedroom off the living room, complete with a small four season porch where Ky had dreamt of falling asleep in Fredrick's arms while listening to the crickets and owls outside.

Ky lifted his hand from the water and looked at the simple silver ring on his finger. Fredrick had given it to him to show their engagement. This and the keys were all Ky had left. The ring, the keys and the fact that ever since Fredrick had died, Ky just couldn't stop living in those moments when he was alive.

"I need to move on, don't I?" He asked the tiled room softly, looking at the ring as if it would answer him. He knew the answer, he didn't need to ask. He knew he needed to move on and stop dwelling on things, after all Fredrick wouldn't have liked the bitter emotional child he'd become after the accident and there was no better testament to his new attitude then what he'd just done. Ky closed his eyes and sunk under the water, shaking his head to wash away what remained of the dirt and dust. A small hint of red filled the water as the blood was washed from his bangs, then he stood up and dried off as the tub drained of everything.

Ky dried himself off with the large fluffed towel hanging from the wall and sunk into a bathrobe that smelled as if it were straight from the drier. Feeling infinitely better he left the bathroom to wander downstairs and find his father. As usual, he found him in the office, on the phone.

"Yes yes of course, that's perfect. You know the set up well enough , and did I mention how impressed I was with your latest work? Yes I've got all the pictures right here and I was very very impressed. I'll have a new project ready for you right away, just follow the directions I sent you..."

Ky leaned against the wall, listening as his father talked on the phone, his voice high pitched like a child talking about his hobby. He could tell his father was talking to one of his 'surrogate sons', which is what Ky always called the boys his father hired to fix his cars. The phone conversation could have gone on forever, but luckily for Ky he seemed to have walked in on the ending of it because he soon heard the phone click into its cradle, and his father's weight adjusted in the chair, making the leather moan in protest.

"Father?"

"Ah yes! You look much better now." His father welcomed him in with open arms, looking almost ready to hug him. Ky side stepped it out of habit and sat down in one of the chairs across from his father. "I assume you're feeling much better now? I called the clinic and had them set up an appointment for you tomorrow afternoon, just to make sure everything is in order. As for the accident and your record, it won't reflect on your permanent record at all, so we can just forget everything happened. I've had the car picked up and towed out of the ditch, you certainly did a number on it..."

Ky couldn't help but smile a little as his father rambled on, rustling the papers on the desk. The normalcy of it all seemed to settle him and make it seem like his small act of idiocy had never happened. Nodding now and then he took comfort in the wide smile on his father's face and let himself be lulled back into a numb security. He considered even regarding his life the way his father did, just letting things happen, then coming in to sweep up the pieces and make it look good again. It neglected the present, but things seemed to turn out all right.

"Thanks father. I'm sorry about the car."

"Nonsense, we'll have it fixed in no time."

Ky opened his mouth to protest, but second guessed himself and finally let it go. If his father wanted to still give him a car, let him. It wouldn't hurt if Ky just left it in the garage, then it would be no different from the other cars in the collection that sat there like a silent car show. It was his father's way of showing he cared and it was just how that man always was.

Ky went to sleep that night feeling peaceful and settled, not even minding the dull throbbing of his cut. It was the first time in months he'd fallen asleep without crying and holding Fredrick's picture.

How strange that after he fell asleep the keys on the chain around his neck twisted closer around his neck and the picture on the bedside table fell off, landing on the mattress next to his hand and peacefully sleeping face.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 

Lyrics screamed through his mind, more incessant and annoying then any alarm clock a person could have imagined and put into production. Ky rolled over in his bed, knocking the picture next to him onto the floor and dropped a pillow over his head so he didn't hear the glass crack upon hitting the floor. High pitched notes and whining guitars seeped through the pillow and Ky found himself feeling like he had a hangover, his temple pounding and sleep completely leaving him. Finally he surrendered and sat up in bed, pulling a robe on as he went to the window to find that offense noise.

Nothing sat in the back lawn which he overlooked, nothing save for his father's large garage which housed his collection of cars. Ky already had a thought forming in his mind as he left his bedroom and marched down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out the back door to that large building. He already knew it was one of his father's little car workers and he was completely ready to rip him a new one for disturbing his sleep and playing that horrible excuse for music.

The garage was a large single floored complex, looking more like a car dealer's show room, filled with vintage cars from various years, all polished and shone to perfection. In the very back of the building was a large tool bench and a work area, where he found the stereo playing, a discarded cd case proclaiming 'Queen' on it laying off to the side.

Ky found his own wrecked car sitting in front of him, with a set of legs covered in grease stained jeans sticking out from under the crumbled machine and the noises of tools running underneath. Ky stood there for a moment, at loss for what to say, then he stamped his foot on the concrete floor and hit the stereo so the music stopped.

"H-hey! Get out here!"

The whirling under the car stopped and he heard a deep voice grumble something unintelligible as tools clanked onto the concrete, then the person slid out so Ky could completely see him, sending a frown in his direction.

He was tall, and big, Ky noticed that right away. The man in front of him had to be at least a foot taller than him, with large muscles showing he spent more than just a couple weekends at the gym. His hair was matted and tied back haphazardly with a bandanna of sorts, and the tank top might have once been white, though now it was stained with shades upon shades of black and grey from grease and who knows what else. A grease smudge crossed one cheek and up one side of his nose, setting off the green eyes that were so light they almost looked gold. Ky found himself just staring at him, not able to say much else. He forgot his indignation and his anger and just stared at the man before him, suddenly feeling small and insignificant.

"Hey! You his son? You did quite a number on this car." The man stood up, and took off the bandanna from his head to wipe the grease from his hands while he moved over to the work shelf and took a drink from a water bottle.

"Who are you? What are you doing here in m-my father's garage?" Ky knew the second answer and most of the first, but he found himself a bit unable to think as he watched the man's muscles while he moved. He felt overwhelmed and outgunned, of all things. An instinct to run and hide was rising as well, but that seemed to help him as it reminded him of his anger. He was the son of one of the richest men in the world after all, what right did this big olaf have to scare him out of his own garage?!

"The name's Sol," the man smirked at Ky and retied on his bandanna, pulling his messy hair back. ⌠And I'm the one who's being paid to fix the mess you made."

"Who said I even wanted that horrendous machine in the first place!" Ky felt his voice rising, and just couldn't stop yelling at this man. Something about him was just infuriating and Ky could feel him silently laughing at him and his every breath.  
Sol shrugged and sat back down on the little trolley by the car. ⌠Hey, I don't care. I'm just the one paid to fix it. I should be thanking you, this'll give me a good couple weeks of work. What'd you do, wrap it around a telephone pole?"

"Shut up!!"

He simply responded with a chuckle and laid back down, sliding back under the car to work. Ky felt the near uncontrollable urge to kick at his legs, but was jolted out of that as the stereo turned back on, much louder this time. He had a remote under the car and he'd done that on purpose!

"Who said I wanted it fixed in the first place?!" Ky yelled at the room, even if he was pretty sure the music drowned him out. Clutching his fist in anger and almost pure rage Ky forced himself to stomp out of the garage and slam the door behind him. He leaned back against the warm wood, closing his eyes and listening to the muffled screams of 80's rock. Slowly the anger slipped away, returning him back to his seemingly normal numb state. He took a few more deep breaths, making sure it wouldn't reappear and tempt him to do something stupid.

It seemed all he was these days was depressed or angry at the world. Ever since the accident, Ky's emotions were off kilter, coming in quick spurts only to leave him too tired to deal with the mess he made each time. Crashing the car was a prime example, and he supposed he was really only lucky that he hadn't hurt someone sooner. Ky forced himself to breathe again and forced the anger away, also forcing himself to walk at the same time.

He needed this to stop. He needed to be stable again, he needed to let go, he needed Fredrick. Ky closed his eyes and tried to hold back the tears that threatened, slowly gathering at his eyes. He angrily wiped them away as he stepped back into the house and wandered around the kitchen aimlessly. He should eat breakfast and then he should find some sort of distraction. That's what he needed, a distraction that didn't bring up Fredrick, his father or cars. He needed something, just anything.

"Uncle Ky!" The high pitched voice came out of no where, followed by the barreling body of a young ten year old wearing a loose summer dress, with a yo-yo tangled around his fingers. Ky blinked in surprise and moved on instinct, somehow managing to catch the young cross-dressed boy before both of them tumbled back onto the floor. He couldn't resist the urge to smile as he looked up at his little cousin.

Bridget was probably the most confusing and confused child in existence. Having grown up in a house with no father, one mother and one older sister, he had decided that he was a girl as well. He made it a point to wear dressed on a daily basis and became offended when anyone even spoke his real, male name. He was Bridget, he would proclaim, and then he'd spell it out until the person relented and called him by his chosen female name. Future mistakes would be followed by teddy bears being thrown at the backs of their heads and a very upset ten year old wielding one of his many yo-yos. Bridget had always been very clear about what he wanted, another result of living with two very strong willed women, which also explained why he'd always called Ky 'uncle' even while they were cousins. In Bridget's mind Uncles were older and cousins were the same age. So since Ky wasn't the same age as Bridget, he just had to be his uncle.

"Uncle Ky Uncle Ky look look! I got a new one!" Bridget swung the yoyo on its string and did a little twisting and turning trick, catching it with a triumphant smile. Ky chuckled and played along, trying to catch the yoyo, but deliberately going too slow so he didn't ruin the trick. "Too slow!"

"You're just too good with them." Ky set Bridget down and watched him play with the yoyo more. It was a happy distraction, one that he welcomed far too easily.

"She insisted on coming over to show you right away. Mother ordered another box of new ones for her to play with a some instruction video for tricks. She'll be pestering us all week, I'm sure." The older voice was from Milia, Bridget's older sister who now sat at the kitchen table, sipping warm tea from an ornate teacup. She resembled Bridget as any sister would, her long blond hair pulled back into a high ponytail that curled just slightly at the edges. Like Ky and her sister, she had deep blue eyes and she wore a stylish short dress that showed off the legs she'd inherited from her mother. Milia's family wasn't as rich as Ky and his father, but no one would ever know it thanks to her keen fashion sense and gift for making herself always look like she had more money than she did. It also helped that Milia help herself to the same standards of any high class woman.

"Oh don't complain, you enjoy it." Ky took a cup for himself and poured some of the tea, sitting down next to her. Bridget immediately jumped up and landed in Ky's lap, smoothing out his dress like a proper lady and smiled brightly as he pretended to be part of the conversation.

"I heard you got into an accident. You should know better than to scare me like that," Milia sipped her tea politely, but the underlying scolding tone was obvious.

Ky leaned back in his chair, one of his hands idly playing with one of Bridget's short pigtails. "I'm surprised the whole world doesn't know by now. I got stupid. The ba- he bought me a car for my birthday. We were supposed to move into the house today, and what does he do? He goes and buys me a car. I just, well, got upset."

Milia nodded her head, tucking back a loose hair. "You know he means well, but your father just isn't the type to really get to know his son. He can't seem to get past the notion that someone could hate cars so much."

"I don't hate them." Ky stopped himself and sighed. "Ok, I do hate them. Because he died in one. I would be perfectly happy to never see them ever again. I just want him back."

"Uncle Ky, do they have yoyos in heaven?"

Both Milia and Ky blinked, looking at the cute blond boy. A small smile crept over Milia's lips and she reached over, ruffling Bridget's hair enough to make him squeak and bat at her hand. "I'm sure they do, sweetie."

"Don't call me sweetie!" Bridget stuck out his lip, pouting until he made Ky crack his own smile. Ky leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Bridget, hugging him much like the teddy bear he usually carried around. Bridget seemed content with that and stuck his tongue out at Milia in triumph.

"You should come out with us today, Ky, get your mind off things. I know you're not much for shopping, but spending a bit of your father's money might get you to relax. Buy yourself something for your birthday. You certainly deserve it."

Ky considered for a moment, then nodded. "I suppose, as long as it's just toy stores for Bridget."

Bridget shook his head, smiling sweetly. "Nu-uh. We can go to Bridget's toy store and then we can go to Uncle Ky and Big Sis's toy store."

"Of course. Now, go tell your Uncle to get dressed."

"Uncle Ky, get dressed!" Bridget perfectly mocked his mother's scolding tone, looking up at Ky. Ky just smiled and nodded his head.

"I'll only be a moment." He stood up and left the kitchen, already feeling better as he climbed the stairs.

In his bedroom, Ky only took a moment to glance at the cut on his forehead. It now looked little more than a simple red scratch, and his bangs easily hid most of it from view. Pulling on a pair of pants and t-shirt, with a simple jacket, he noticed the picture of him and Fredrick lying on the bed.

"Now how did you get there-" Ky frowned and picked it up, setting the picture back on bedside table. His other hand reflexively went to the keys hanging from around his neck.  
Outside the window he could hear the same loud music blaring and screaming from the garage. Before he even really thought about it, Ky walked to the window and leaned against the sill, looking down.

The garage door was open and the music was loud again, having followed Sol out into the yard. The larger man wasn't currently working on any of the cars, but was instead leaning against the garage wall, smoking a cigarette while he took a break. The sun highlighted that fact that he'd gained more grease stains and now a light layer of sweat seemed to cover his skin. Ky couldn't help but stare, his hands pressed against the window sill and the room around him feel thick. Ky coughed softly and tugged at the chain around his neck, the keys moving just a little.

"Ky? Are you coming?"

"Uncle Ky! We're gonna leave without you!"

"Coming." Ky answered back and turned from the window. He quickly rushed down the stairs, the two keys around his neck jingling all the way.


End file.
